


Lip Service

by hotlineblinganonymous



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drug and Alcohol Use, Except For Some People, F/F, Mild Language, Mild Spoilers, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Past Relationships, canon violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 11:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5927470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotlineblinganonymous/pseuds/hotlineblinganonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lip Service: n; support for someone shown in words but not in actions.</p><p>A series of semi-related, non-chronological oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seasons

It was a summer day when she falls the first time.

It was blistering hot and sweat was beading on Nora's forehead as she glanced through the scope of her rifle, watching with stilled breath as a couple of raiders circled the wall like vultures, her fingers moving to the trigger and she could hear Nate's voice ringing in her ear. _"Take a deep breath. Count down from three. Keep your eyes open_." He had taken her to the firing range the first time they were together. It had been an odd first date she thought idly letting her mental countdown begin in her mind.

_3._

There were two of them and as Nora checked the peripherals there were four more scattered in the center of their little makeshift sanctuary. Between plywood walls and ragged ceilings made of frayed cloth were shelves littered with broken vials of buffout, a small stack of jet and a rather large collection of psycho. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned her gaze back to her targets as yet another bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. For the first time that day she wondered where her companion was. She had run off in the opposite direction, no doubt to check whatever poor raider had decided to spark their intention in the wrong way. Nora had no doubt that she'd won but with all the chems around them she was more or less a little worried about her deciding to slip into one of her more damaging habits.

_2._

She sucked in a breath, filling her lungs as she watched one of the raiders in her crosshair laugh at a joke their friend had told them. Thoughts of them knowing nothing about their death flooded her mind just enough for her to want to change her mind. Thoughts of Jun and Marcy's son came back to her, thoughts of the Abernathy's daughter, thoughts that these beings had the faces of humans but the minds of monsters and needed no pity drowned out the noise of her moment of pity. Her fingers tightened on the trigger.

_1._

"You know I'll be happy once we're out of this god damned heat." A pop and a bullet soared just over the ear of her intended target. Nora wheeled on her companion almost immediately, swears balanced right on the edge of her lips as her targets gathered their wits and started firing she grabbed a hold of the redhead's wiry arm and yanked her onto the dirt with her.

"Where the _fuck_ were you." Nora swore over the hail of bullets, taking in the redhead's split lip and bruised eye. Cait shot her a toothy grin and shrugged.

"Takin' out the trash, but then I realized I forgot to toss you in with it." Nora opened and closed her mouth floundering for a response as she lifted her rifle over the cover and shot blindly, she heard a raider grunt and the angered yells of their comrades, assuming she hit her mark she peered over the cover.

_One down, five more to go._

"Not that I'm not happy you didn't die without letting me know, but did you really have to go and announce your presence to every fucking raider in the area?" Nora asked, turning back to her scope as she pulled the trigger on a second assailant, watching with vague disinterest as he fell to the floor, fingers grabbing at the red spilling out of his throat.

"Ye looked like you were a tad bit lonesome." Cait replied with a shrug, she crawled up to the tipped over nuka cola machine and took a few shots missing every enemy in the vicinity before letting out a couple choice words of her own, tossing her shotgun aside before pulling out her bat, "didn't know the company I'd bring would be this fun." She smirks over at Nora wickedly and looks back out at the battlefield.

"Cait, don't-" She's cut off before she can even begin a bullet grazed just over her ear as she watched Cait bash in the head of a rather steamed raider, gore and blood flying everywhere and Nora doesn't know whether to be concerned or nonplussed that she actually felt a little bit turned on. Nora shakes her head, looks down her crosshairs, counts down from three, takes a breath, and fires.

It was nightfall when they finally met up again and Nora was pilfering through the pockets of the dearly departed wastelanders while Cait worked on treating a rather nasty gash in her arm. The vault dweller stopped for a moment, letting out a bark of a laugh as the redhead threw bandage she had been trying to use to the ground.

"Somethin' funny?" She growls.

"Other than your face?" Nora chokes back a laugh as Cait narrows her eyes at her and if this had happened even a week earlier Nora would have been terrified of the repercussions of her statement. But this wasn't a week ago. It was today and Cait wasn't the bloodthirsty, angry irish woman she had begrudgingly been told to take care of. The redhead lets out a grunt and Nora starts cackling as she flipped her off.

Today she was Cait the bloodthirsty, frustrated irish woman who, suddenly tired of the laughter, was getting unbelievably close to her.

Really close to her. Like she could feel the heat of her breath on her cheek close, it's sticky and humid and suddenly pair of chapped, cracked lips are on hers. Their teeth clink and she can feel Cait, warm and hot and blazing growl against her, bruised and battered hands fisting her railroad issued coat.

It's summer when she falls the first time.

* * *

 

It's Autumn when she falls a second time.

She doesn't mean for it to happen, not really anyways. Nora is at the Third Rail nursing a bruised ego and a fractured heart as she glances down at the contents of her glass. It's something clear and bitter and according to Hancock it'll make her forget all about her failed relationship with Cait in a way that going to Sanctuary and attempting to talk to the woman won't. It's not like she was in love with her. Far from it actually, that was the entire reason why it failed so terribly. She just couldn't love her. At least not like that.

Nora thinks it was a fault in her wiring. That maybe she just still isn't over Nate. Nora takes another sip from her glass and grimaces as the liquid scorches down her throat; she turns blurry sea blue eyes towards the stage and watches the singer croon from her platform. She has the voice of an angel and she looks like sin incarnate and Nora decides that the whole reason things went to shit with Cait wasn't because she wasn't over Nate. The Vault Dweller watches the singer sway her hips for a few more moments and turns back to look at WhiteChapel Charlie. She asks for another drink and if he cares about the four other drained glasses sitting in front of her he doesn't say it. But then again, Charlie has dealt with his fair share of drunks.

"I want to talk to her." She says bluntly, jerking her head towards the stage. If Charlie was human she's sure the look he would give her would be full of judgment and mild amusement.

"Mags? What for? She owe you money for somethin'?" Nora shakes her head and goes back to watching the woman at the microphone, through the drunken fog that's settled in her mind she wonders if this is what love at first sight feels like.

Then she realizes she doesn't feel anything and decides that it isn't.

It's fall when she makes her second mistake.

It's wild and sloppy and rough and just about everything she'd come to expect the Commonwealth to stand for all wrapped up in one porcelain skinned and red dress wearing package.

However, the morning after Magnolia, that was her name, she remembers it just vaguely as she brushes her fingers over the bruise she had left her with. Magnolia had offered her a flimsy explanation about how the stage was the only lover she could ever have and Nora has to remind herself not to roll her eyes as she holds up a hand and tells her that it was okay. That there were no hard feelings and that it had been fun.

At least what she remembered of it anyways.

Magnolia smiles at her, rose painted lips smeared just slightly as she kisses her cheek goodbye and Nora takes some small, primal satisfaction in the fact that she's limping just enough to be noticeable.

* * *

 

It's winter when she nearly trips up a third time.

She's in the basement of the Memory Den, Curie floating just behind her as she argues with Glory about using the body of her brain dead companion for some foolish idealogy that had to do with being human and letting Curie live out a dream she'd had for god knows how long. For a moment Nora almost wishes that she could pull a rank card on her. That she could just order her into sacrificing the only thing she had left of her friend. But this is the Railroad she's dealing with. Not the Brotherhood. They don't operate by rank. They operate by merit, and try as she might to ignore it, her and Glory rank about the same when it comes down to it.

In fact, Glory might even be better. What with her morals and her unwavering attempts to obtain a world where Synths could be equal to humans and not slaves to them. Hell, Nora gave up finding her son the moment she stumbled into Concord and got nearly eaten by a deathclaw.

Still she stays adamant in her view, only if it's because she believes that Curie really can achieve great things. What those things are however is a different story and she coaxes Glory into letting them use G5-19's body to achieve it. After all, it's not like she's using it anyway. Glory finally consents with a grunt of apprehension and sits down on the couch, looking all in the world like her world just crashed down around her and Nora offers her a small smile as Amari's fingers clack against the keyboard filling the silence in the room and Nora checks in on Curie one last time before she watches her robotic shell drop to the ground.

Her heart drops for a moment and for the first time since the bombs fell, she feels a dread that only happens when you don't know what's about to happen.

She holds her breath and counts back from three to keep from throttling Amari and she gets to two when she hears the Synth in the memory pod gasp for air, hazel blue eyes wild and searching, fingers clawing at the arms of the pod and Nora is there in an instant, helping Curie up as Amari tells her to breathe, just breathe. Curie is clutching to her arm for dear life and she lets out a small giggle as she stands up on wobbly legs. She's silent as Curie answers all of Amari's questions and when Amari's stern face turns kinder she knows that it worked.

"It's really you huh?" Nora says quietly, keeping herself steady as Curie leans against her. She looks over at Glory, who looks almost heart broken and offers her a small smile. It's a shitty consolation prize, and she's sure to get an earful later.

"Oui Madame." Her companion smiles and it's so innocent, so childlike she can feel her smile widen just a little bit more.

She leans against the wall next to Glory as she watches her friend walk around on wobbly legs, eyes full of wonder and hands reaching out to grab everything. She lets out a small laugh and she can hear Glory scoff beside her as Curie pesters the Doctor with hundreds of questions and Nora has to remind her to breath more than a few times.

She almost falls for a third time in the winter. It would've been a third mistake and she's not too sure she can handle another one. 

So she doesn't.

* * *

 

Nora doesn't consider the third time a mistake.

It had happened too slowly, like the changing of the seasons and she doesn't say a word. She says nothing at all as she starts her slow walk through the ruins of Vault 111. She goes back from time to time. Sneaks away from the slowly growing hub of Sanctuary Hills to go and talk to Nate when things get overwhelming and troubles start weighing her down. 

This time trouble came in a short, freckled, fiery package and instead of a bow it was topped off in a red trenchcoat and press cap. She rubs her face as she sits down in front of Nate's cryopod. She laughs, short and wistful as she realizes, not for the first time, that she's about to start a conversation with her dead husband's corpse. That if Nick or Preston or god _forbid_ Cait walked in she would have a mountain of explaining to do.

She wonders, not for the first time, if all of those rads had gone to her brain. Nora sighs, shakes the thought ( _and hopefully a few of the rads_ ) out of her head and passes her fingers through her hair.

"Hey there Nate," She begins her voice cracks at the edges, as it always has. Ever since the accident. Since the bombs fell. Since hell itself decided to rise up in Boston. "I...I missed you. I know you've missed me too, you don't have to hide it." She laughs a little. Her hands are shaking now. "There's...There's been an awful lot happening since the last time we talked. I still don't know whether you'd be proud of me or not." She hopes he is. Wherever he is. "I've been trying you know, I think I'm really doing right by these people. Cait's finally talking to me again." A beat, "it's only taken her almost a year. But I suppose I deserved it." She decides to sit on her hands. They're trembling too much. "There's someone else now though. They aren't....they aren't new." Her voice breaks a little "Oh Nate, I...I really love her. I don't know how to tell her. I don't know how to hold on to anyone anymore. I'm so scared to." Another laugh, this time a little more wistful. "And we thought trusting people before the bombs was hard." She studies the oxygen tank beside her late husbands frozen tomb. Suddenly too lost in thought, in feeling. "She makes it so easy though...like breathing. Trusting her is like breathing and it's only normal that I fell in love right? She's so beautiful, she's so generous, so good with her words and she's funny." Nora cracks a smile. "You'd love her too I think." Her smile fades just a little and she adds wistfully, "I bet you'd know just what to say."

Nora focuses her sea green eyes back on her husband. She focuses everywhere but the dark stain on his vault suit. She focuses on anything other than the fact that the last person she loved this deeply was gone.

She focuses on anything other than the fact that it was all her fault. She counts down from three, lets out a little breath and continues. "I guess, all I wanted to do was vent to you about it. That's pretty selfish of me...come to think of it. But I can't keep coming back down here. I got to live. I got to live for you...for Shaun." 

Shaun.

That was another being she loved and lost. Her shoulders slump slightly. Even her son was dead. And it was all her fault. 

She sighs and pats the edge of the pod gently before she stands up. "I'm gonna go now. Okay? This isn't goodbye though. At least not forever." She looks over at his body, frozen forever in time and flashes him a small, rueful smile before she starts the long trek back to Sanctuary. 

 

She doesn't make it all the way to Sanctuary before fate comes up to her. Dressed in faded red leather and fingerless gloves. She supposes it's her fault. She had decided to stick around the entrance for awhile, sitting on the edge of it, looking out at the stars and contemplating everything she told Nate. Or Nate's...body. A shiver runs through her as she thinks of that and she hears someone clearing their throat behind her, she glances over her shoulder and she can feel her face lighting up even if she's fighting so hard against it. She pats the spot beside her and the reporter takes a seat on the lip of the vault. If Nora was the poetic type, she'd think there was something oddly romantic about her two loves being so close.

But she isn't and she would never be, so she won't. 

 

"You cold?" The journalist's voice breaks the silence and Nora shrugs.

 

"Like, personality wise? Or temperature wise?" She's rewarded with a laugh, soft and light and she feels her smile deepen. "Because we all know my soul has been frozen for a while now." She can feel her shift beside her, can sense those warm, hazel green eyes surveying her, studying her. 

Somehow she doesn't exactly mind. 

 

"Well, maybe your soul is waiting for someone to thaw it out." That was new, Nora can feel her eyebrows shoot up and she glances at her friend. The reporter immediately backpedals, tanned, freckled cheeks turning red. "I....I mean. It's the first day of spring and all. I don't know I thought it was clever, why are you _looking_ at me like that Blue." Nora grins, despite her feelings towards her, she can't help a little bit of teasing. 

 

"Why Miss Wright, you wouldn't happen to know someone that could do that do you?" She lets out a soft laugh as Piper's fist hits her shoulder.

 

"Remind me why I came all the way out here just to be harassed by you?" The journalist huffed, glaring at the taller woman before she leaned back on her arms, looking up at the sky. "Why are you out here anyways?"

 

"Just wanted to take a walk." She lies, it falls between her teeth and she know it sounds insincere but if Piper catches on to it she doesn't let on. She feels a bit guilty lying and she doesn't know why. She's never felt guilt about it before. Hell, she made a living off of lying.

But Piper didn't need to know that. So she softens the lie a little bit with a sliver of truth. "I needed to clear my mind and this is....well this is the place where I do it at." Piper nods, looking out at their surroundings taking in the skeletal remains of cars and old shipping containers littered with bones of human beings long since forgotten. The journalist lets out a little sigh and leans her head against the Vault Dweller's shoulder, gathers a battered hand in hers, tracing her fingers over scars  and calluses. Nora tries to hide the blush creeping up over her face and not for the first time she's cursing whatever's out there that she's so pale. They sit like that in silence for a while, Piper running butterfly light touches over the palm of her hand and Nora trying not to shiver, trying to focus on how the stars look as they start to peek through the clouds. The journalist nuzzles closer to her side and she reminds herself that Piper's probably just cold. This is all for warmth, they've done things like this before.

But Nora had never been caught up. There had always been something on her mind, a welcomed distraction from the ever growing feelings she had been harboring for the journalist. Whether it was a horde of Ferals or a Deathclaw or hell, even the Institute. Back when things where simpler. 

Back before she had to kill her son.

Piper seeming to sense a change in her, as observant as ever, looks up at her. "Cap for your thoughts Blue?" Nora shakes her head and smiles, looking down at her.

 

"Is it a press cap?" She asks, feeling her smile widen as Piper pulls away a bit, if only to look her right in the eyes. It catches her off guard and she feels herself gulp audibly as the woman studies her. Full lips pursed.

 

"Very funny." She replies and Nora offers her a meek shrug. "Now spill." 

 

"It's a long story Pipes." She says quietly, she thinks for a moment that she'll just leave it at that.

She thinks wrong and really she could slap herself for thinking that at all because this is _Piper_ , for crying out loud. "I just...I have someone on my mind." She looks away, not noticing Piper deflate just slightly as she sits up straighter, pulling away completely. "Is something wrong?"

 

"Who is it?" Her voice is quick, words as straight to the point as they ever were and even though it's a mild day in spring the Vault Dweller suddenly feels hot. She tugs at the collar of her plain white shirt and looks everywhere but at the journalist. "C'mon Blue, just tell me. I promise I won't publish it." She's joking around but there's an air of stubbornness about her. She's not going anywhere until Piper gets her answers. "Is it Cait? Curie?" A fake gasp and Piper smirks. "It's McCready isn't it? He finally won you over with that yellow smile of his." She's joking around but she can tell, just from her tone that it's false. It's a defense tactic. She doesn't want to be hurt but she needs to know who it is. She wants to know why.

Piper is gonna get a hell of a surprise.

 

Nora can't lie to her, she knows that when she finally meets her gaze. Hazel green meets greenish blues and she has to bit the inside of her cheek. She needs to treat her like a target for right now. She has her in her sights. Now all she has to do is take a breath and count down from three.

_3._

"So who is it Nora? Inquiring minds want to know." She's drowning in those kaleidoscope eyes. Watching them shift from green to brown to gold in the dying starlight. She can see the sun coming up just over the horizon and for a moment it all crashes together for her. It's burning at the back of her throat like the alcohol she'd been drinking when she thinks no one is watching. The words clink at the back of her teeth and she takes this moment to take in all of the gorgeous girl next to her. The way the rising sun plays off her tawny skin. How it sinks into the inky black depths of her hair.

_2._

She needs to take all of this in because she could leave at any moment. She could leave or she could be taken from her. Or she could die and she just found her. Nora _just_ found her. She can't leave. Not right now. It would destroy her. Her heart is pounding somewhere beneath the burning of her throat and she reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of the journalist's eyes. Her hand cradles the reporters cheek, thumb brushing over a defined cheekbone. Dusting over the smattering of freckles. Piper's eyes widen and she can feel her cheek warming up the chilled tips of her fingers. "B...Blue?"

_1._

She kisses her then. The words dying on her lips as she forces them back down. She can't let her know that. Not with words, not yet, but she'll tell her with actions. Nora feels Piper inhale more than she can hear it, she can feel Piper's fingers tighten on the front of her coat and pull  her deeper, closer. She's so warm and Nora lets out a low moan, as she deepens the kiss, burying her fingers into Pipers hair. She can hear Piper whimper and her grip on the journalist tightens and she pulls her onto her lap, feeling her thighs straddle her hips.

They kiss for a second, a minute, an eternity, lost in each other's arms and not wanting to part until the need for oxygen starts burning at their lungs and they break apart just slightly, Nora rests her head against Piper's and laughs quietly as she rubs her nose against hers. "You." She says simply. Piper is tracing her fingers over the zipper of her coat. Lets them splay across her stomach as she opens them. For all her prying and questions, she knows exactly what she means and she pulls Nora into another breathless kiss.

It's a mild morning in Spring when Nora falls a third time, with the sun rising up over them and Piper's warm weight on top of her she's certain that it will be the last.

* * *

 

_(A/N: Hi there everyone! Thank you for powering through this story long enough to make it to these notes. It's been a good five or six years since I've actually written anything so hopefully this isn't that bad. I just finished playing Fallout 4 and this was just begging to be written. Mostly because I love Piper and I was a little dissappointed about the lack of piper/F!sole stuff I'd been seeing. If enough people want it I really wouldn't mind just turning this into a series of semi-related one-shots so feel free to send me any prompts that pop into your head. Anyways, constructive criticism is always welcome, I hope you all enjoyed!)_


	2. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper always liked scars, and Nora had a never ending supply of them.

* * *

Piper had always liked scars.

While most people would cringe away from puckered, freshly healing skin. Piper would study them with the eyes of a writer, would badger the owner of them for the story behind each one. In all honesty, it kept her from being bored whenever she was on the move pursuing the real story, there was never an absence of scars on the people of the Commonwealth. Hell, even the land around them bared scars. From the crumpling skyscrapers to the gutted out grocery stores and long abandoned schools the whole landscape was one long gash. Still healing. Still striving to get _better_.

Sure, there were infections that wrought havoc on the Commonwealth that never fully went away. There was always large groups of raiders roaming around, filling up decaying apartment buildings and shopping malls. Supermutants lined the streets of old suburban paradises and factories and ferals just tended to ramble anywhere that wasn't already filled. They would tear apart anything in their path, striving for more chems, more power, or a meal.

As heavily scarred and irradiated as the land around them was, there was always something to fight the infections. Albeit for different reasons. However, just like any type of infection there was always something out there that could fight it. It just so happened that in this case it was someone.

Piper shivered slightly, reaching behind her blindly for a warm body that just wasn't there. The journalist sat up, rubbing her eyes in the moonlight, she should be used to this by now. It was months since their moment on the literal precipice of her bedmates life, she'd be lying if she said that this was a new situation. Even the first night they were together Blue hadn't been there the morning after. Having left to pursue another lead for the Railroad or as Cait put it "off gettin' her ass beat with Shades". Piper smiled in her bed at how she chewed Deacon and Blue out when they had eventually came back to Sanctuary. Deacon for being Deacon and Nora, in private and much quieter when she saw how heavily bandaged her torso was. How Nora just waved it off and said that she would let Curie poke at it tomorrow.

Turns out she had gotten several scars from more than a few bullets. She didn't tell her what she saw, or how she got them. Piper had tried not to be too hurt about that. It was rare that Nora wouldn't tell her the story behind a scar. She had several scars running jagged down her left eye from a deathclaw out in Concord back when she helped out Preston. A larger, smoother, scar down the middle of her face from busting several merchants out of Raider territory and a few small scars on her lips. "From the Abernathy's cat." She had said dryly and Piper had snorted at that wondering why she had the cat that close to her lips in the first place before deciding she'd rather not know.

But there were other scars Nora had. Ones that weren't carved into her face or etched into her back. They were deeper and not quite as obvious, hidden from view until the moon rose. When she would get up like clockwork and walk the perimeter of wherever they were at. Sanctuary, the Castle, even Diamond City. Checking for hidden enemies that just weren't there. Checking turrents that never stopped working, checking to make sure that there were no holes in the wall that were only being patched up by bookcases. Nora avoided telling her about those scars the most. In fact the few times Piper had brought it up the Vault Dweller brushed it off the same way she brushed off the bullet wounds.

Piper let out a small sigh, stretching in her spot before reaching for her bedshirt which laid forgotten on the floor of her house. She knew where she would be once she was done doing her rounds and opened up the door leading to the roof of her little spot in Diamond City. Sure enough, there she is dressed in the Railroad coat with her rifle sitting across her lap. Shoulders tensed she's surveying the streets like a hawk, pink lips pulled into a tight line. Piper could write sonnets on how the moonlight looked dancing off her pale skin. She could write poetry about how beautiful and deadly she looks. Like a tigress waiting to strike. But poems don't sell as well as the truth does. So instead Piper picks a spot next to her and sits down, resting her cheek against Nora's shoulder. She can feel her flinch before the Vault Dweller looks down at her, she can feel a pair of lips press lightly against the top of her head and she smiles.

 

"How's it lookin' out there Blue?" The Journalist asks focusing her sights on the streets, trying in vain to see if she could see the same potential threats that Nora could. She can't, and she doesn't know whether to be thankful for that or not.

 

"Beautiful." She hears Blue whisper and Piper curses herself when she can feel her cheeks turn pink. Nora isn't the first person to compliment her. Being one of the few women in the Commonwealth with a full set of teeth and hair that wasn't cropped painfully short will garner that sort of attention. Piper moves her head back just enough to look at her and seeing the dopey smile on Nora's face chuckles and rolls her eyes.

 

"You know, you might want to go get your eyes checked tomorrow. All that saving the world stuff is doing terrible things to your vision." She hears Nora laugh but it's hollow, empty and she doesn't know just what to do with that.

 

"Is that what you think? That I'm saving the world?"

 

"Aren't you?" Piper questions incredulously, gesturing towards the rifle that sits across her lover's lap. "Keeping Diamond City safe for all? I know you probably don't think about this much, but you're a hero. You're doing more for this city than the guards and that idiot McDonough have ever done. Although, I don't really know if that's saying a whole heck of a lot, all things considered." She can feel Nora stiffen slightly and she pulls away again, looking up at her. "What did I-"

 

"I'm not a hero." Nora says plainly, blue-green eyes growing dim and she watches as the Vault Dweller, usually so self-assured and confident shrinks a bit in the moonlight. She looks away from Piper. "I have my own motives for keeping this place safe." There's that look again. The one that tells Piper that there's more to this woman then just the scars on her face, her back, her arms. Nora adds quietly, "Keeping you safe." Piper feels the corner of her lips twitch at that and she slides her fingers through hers.

 

"Ya know, I wish I knew why you felt that way. I can handle myself pretty well." Piper looks at her then, really looks at her and for once she seems so ungodly human, with her shoulders hunched up and her eyes haunted. She sees the bags under her eyes and slides her fingers through her's. "I'm sure you'll tell me one day."

 

"One day huh? That's awfully understanding of you." Piper lets out a huff, hazel-green eyes narrowing but she can't help but grin as Blue slowly comes back from whatever headspace she had been sulking in.

 

"I'm plenty understanding. And super giving, one might even call me compassionate." Piper's grin turns sly and she nudges Nora's stomach with her elbow, "even you can admit to that."

 

"Whatever." Nora mumbles.

 

"C'mon Blue, let's go to bed. Maybe...if you're ready...you can tell me a little bit about why I always need to wrangle you back to bed every night." Nora nods, stifling a yawn before standing up, helping Piper to her feet as they walk hand in hand back through the doorway of Publick Occurrences.

 

The sun is creeping in through the cracks in the doorway when Nora finally tells her. Piper traces her fingers over the circular shaped scars of Nora's back as she tells her about Nate, about Shaun, about the Institute that she helped destroy. All of that advancement, all of those people. Dead and cold and deep underground and it's all her fault. Nora tells her that she stays awake at night terrified that one day Death will take the last person that actually means something to her. That keeping guard over this city isn't for the city's benefit but for her's. Every night she spends in Piper's arms without having to fire a shot is one small victory in a lifetime of losses and that she has a lot of catching up to do but she's scared. She's so scared that one day she'll lose her. Piper holds her as she breaks down, body shaking and she shushes her, kisses each tear and tells her it's okay. That she won't be going anywhere. That she know's she'll keep her safe.

And Piper will keep her safe too. Even if it kills her.


	3. Melancholia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up is the hardest part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very vague, minor spoilers for In Sheep's Clothing.

Waking up is the hardest part.

It had been that way since she was young, back before the bombs, back before the war. Back when her only concerns involved how to go about paying for law school and whether or not the pregnancy test was lying to her. It would take her ages to wake up in the morning back then, sleep being a welcomed reprieve from the first-world challenges she used to face.

Now sleep came in bursts, a few quiet moments here and there. Against the walls of crumbling buildings, in small shanty homes, occasionally when she was lucky a familiar couch or bed that didn't smell like several different things died on it.  Or around it. Yeah, those were the lucky days. The luckiest though had come whenever she was in her arms, all warm, tanned skin and sweet smelling, jet black hair that she frequently buried her face in. Sleep would happen almost instantly, whether it was because she felt like home, _(because she really felt like home if Nora was being honest, but she never was, so she never told her.)_ or if it was because she had made sure that the Vault Dweller was sore and exhausted in the best ways, she'll never know.

Waking up was easier with her, her voice croaking beside her, _(wakey wakey Blue,)_ would make her eyes open slowly, feeling the pressure of her weight, light and reassuring on her, chin resting on her collarbone as she would yawn, stretching each creaky joint and popping every bone she could. There would have been a been a couple of smart ass comments about aging well and false concern about her needing a walker, followed by a light swat to a tanned and freckled shoulder. Weight getting heavier as the woman leaned into her more, lips peppered her nose, her cheeks, her lips in soft, light, kisses. ( _it's time to move_.) 

Waking up with her was easier.

That's what she remembers as her familiar voice floats into her ears, soft and husky. That hint of a rasp she'd acquired from one too many packs of cigarettes. _(Wakey wakey Blue.)_ She opens her eyes slowly, sitting up and rubbing her eyes as the sunlight sneaks through the slated boards of the shack she decided to stay in. She pops her knuckles and lets out a grunt _(now that your done popping, I figure it's time for me to....ah....me to tell you something._ ) She walks over to the wall, listening to each and every word as her fingers reach out for the rifle, slinging it over her shoulder. She checks her pack, making sure she has all the necessary materials, before that too gets thrown over her shoulder. She opens the door and winces a little as the sun greets in full force. It hits her the same way falling in love had hit her, fast, warm, and blinding enough to make her tear up a little. ( _Now bear with me Blue, I promise there's a point to all this_.)

She's running through the streets now, ducking away from Ferals and Super Mutants as she weaves through the shambles of her former neighborhood. Nora pops a few rounds when they get too close and doesn't let her eyes linger long enough to watch warm bodies hit the cold ground, only staying on them long enough to make sure they won't get back up. Even Super Mutants were human once and while Nora had gotten used to a large number of things.Facing roaches the size of her torso and scorpions the size of cars was nothing compared to killing people and watching them die. After a while though she had gotten used to it. For a time at least. 

_(I guess I should start by saying I love you.)_

It had taken one lapse of judgement to lead to her reverting back to her old ways. One. Although, to  Nora's credit it wasn't her lapse of judgment. She supposes that that should mean something. Whatever it means though, she isn't too sure. She's given up trying to make sense of the whole thing ages ago. The Vault Dweller round the corner, glancing in at a long abandoned diner. Before all of this had happened she would've been terrified of the skeletons that were there, now she's just happy nothing has disturbed the remains. _(I mean you already know I love you, I've told you that before, I know I have. Once or twice.)_

Actually she had mentioned it fifty-seven times. But it hadn't been like Nora was counting them at all.

( _And you make it so easy you know? Loving you is like loving the paper....It's like loving Nat. Okay. Wait. It's not like loving Nat at all._ )

She gives a little chuckle at that. It's bittersweet and hollow, just like all the laughs had been after it happened. Nora looks up, seeing the top half of the emerald green wall over the decaying remains of clothing stores and book shops. Just behind those walls had been her home once. Just behind those walls had been her life.

_(Loving you is like...it's like loving the sunset. Is that corny? God, that's probably corny. But you know how the sunset has all those different colors? How they all meld and mesh together into something beautiful? How the sky just mixes with the sun? Loving you is like that.)_

Nora lets out a sigh as she passes a few turrets, nodding to a couple of guards that look her way as the sun starts to sink. Hadn't it had just been morning? She swear it was just this morning when she turned the corner.

_(I guess I just want to do with you what the sky does with the sun when it sets. If that makes sense. I mean I'm not talking about....about that. Not that I don't like it when we do that. I love that. Actually we should do more of that. Whenever you get home anyways. We should do that often. Fuck, I had a point.)_

She walks up the stairs to the city with the grace of a fallen hero. Only sparing a glance to wave at Sullivan as she goes into the place she had been avoiding for weeks, ever since she dropped Nat and Shaun off at Sanctuary to stay with Codsworth, Curie and Cait. Watching them had gotten too hard. Looking at Nat had gotten too hard. ( _Right, sunsets....I love you the way the sky loves the sun when it sets. I love you the way the tide loves the shore. I love you in a hundred different ways and I didn't even know I could count that high. I don't think I'll ever stop either._ )

There's still a faded stain where it had happened, it's the first thing she sees when she walks in and she clenches her jaw so tight it hurts. She wishes she left McDonough alive just so she could beat him to death again. But he's dead. Nora had made damn sure of that. 

( _And I was just wondering, since there's no way this love is stopping. If you'd want to grow old together....or older. Seeing as you're already a relic and all._ )

She still remembers it like it was yesterday, the shouting, the yelling. The blood. God, there had been so much blood. Soaking through leather and dying the red even redder. She remembers how cold she had felt in her arms, the sounds of Danny yelling at the other guards, the smell of gunpowder and metal and power noodles, the quiet desperation in her voice as she had asked her not to leave, not yet. The fear in her voice as she whispered that she didn't want to die. Not like this. Not at all.  

( _I guess what I'm saying is will you want to be relics together? Will you give me the chance to keep loving you like the sun loves the sky?_ ) 

She can remember it all like it happened yesterday, and she has to shut her eyes for a moment as tears blur the edges of her vision as she takes a seat in front of the small white cross behind Publick Occurrences. The yelling, the screaming, Nora's screaming as she busted open the door to the Mayor's office. Nora seeing red. Nora beating McDonough until her knuckles were busted and the Mayor laid in a pool of his own gore. She remembers not stopping until she was pried away from the scene by Nick. She remembers him pressing the holotape into her battered and bloody hand and muttering about how he was sorry, how he was so sorry, that Piper had wanted her to have the tape. How it had been found in her jacket after Nora had left.

_(Will you marry me?)_

The tears are falling freely now and Nora keeps her chin up, eyes focused on the press cap dangling off the cross, the sun mixing with the sky just above her, as she whispers one word.

"Yes."

If waking up is the hardest part. Then moving on is even harder.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and criticism is always welcomed.


	4. Stumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being subtle was never her strong suit. Being sober was never hers.
> 
> In other words, Piper finds Nora at the Third Rail and has a crisis.

All she wanted was a cold beer.

At least that's what she tells herself as she walks past Ham for the second time that evening. The first time being with Nora as they searched for some flighty woman named Emogene for some strange, alien obsessed shut in. She certainly wasn't spying on a certain Vault Dweller. She was simply craving a beer and a few people to interview. Piper was _not_ focused on how close her friend _(because that's all she was, if she was honest with herself, and that was all she would ever be, if she was brutally honest with herself.)_  was sitting to a certain leggy, blue eyed lounge singer. She tries to keep her eyes trained on Charlie as she motions for a beer, remembering to say please, she tries not to notice how the singer's fingers trace over Nora's thigh like it had been there a hundred times, like it had a claim to the skin that lay just beneath the fabric of her clothes. She tries to ignore how much it hurts, how it feels an awful lot like being socked in the stomach, punched through the heart, knowing that it really _shouldn't hurt_ because they were just friends. 

Even if she would spend many a late night at Publick Occurrences staring at the ceiling as she willed herself not to remember her smile, the dimple in her left cheek and the way her eyes lit up for a few brief moments.

Even if she would spend many a late night in shacks, in tunnels, in caves, watching Nora sleep instead of watching out for Raiders.

Even if she was currently sitting slightly down the bar from her, quietly stewing in her own emotions, trying to tell herself that the whole reason why she probably liked Blue so much was because she didn't run around threatening to kick her out of her home, she never mistrusted her, because she was her _friend_. That it had nothing to do with the way the corner of her eyes crinkled when she laughed, or the way she tended to give more than she took. Or how her voice sent subtle shivers down her spine when she would say Piper's name.

God, she was fucked.  

She sighed, pulling an ashtray towards her as she lit up a cigarette, she inhaled, shutting her eyes against the sudden rush of nicotine. When she opens them, Nora is right there next to her as the singer sways back up to her stage. She has this dopey, goofy, half smile on her face and Piper has to bite her tongue to keep herself from saying something she'll  regret. She has to remind herself that she's not a jealous lover, she's Piper. An entertaining, snarky sidekick at best and a nosy snoop at worst. It hurts, she thinks, but it's much more simple than admitting that she wants more. 

"Well fancy seeing you here." Nora's voice soothes her thoughts even if it's slurring and it takes her a moment or two of watching Nora sway in her seat to figure out that she's drunk. 

If she wasn't so miserable, she might have found it funny. 

"We came into this city together Blue, it can't really be that big of a surprise." She says dryly, "did you find anything out about Emogene?" The taller woman's smile gets even wider as she shakes her head and not for the first time Piper is wondering how she gets her teeth so white. "Yeah, I don't know why I thought you would. Given your ah...current state." Nora lets out a low, tipsy chuckle and Piper jumps as the other woman's head hits her shoulder. "Jesus Blue, how much did you have?" Piper can feel her shrug, can barely hear her mumble against her shoulder and she lets out another weary sigh. "What am I going to do with you huh?" A weight gets lifted off her shoulder and she can feel her eyes widen as Nora looks at her, blue-green eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot but filled with light. 

"Love me." The Vault Dweller states it as if the words came naturally, as if the thought was almost common, as if the thought wasn't some monstrous behemoth that Piper had been wrestling it for the greater part of a month. If Piper had been chewing any, she just might have choked on her bubblegum. 

"I-What?" The journalist gives her head a shake, _(She's drunk, she doesn't know what she's saying, she doesn't know what she wants but if she did she sure the hell wouldn't want her), "_ Look, let's just get you back to the hotel before you can embarrass yourself even more." Nora nods absentmindedly and gets to her feet, surprisingly steady on drunken legs. She never ceased to amaze, that one. Piper looks after her, slightly amused as the taller woman shuffles towards the stairs, she places the money on the bar before following after her. 

"God." They're stopped just in front of the steps and Nora is looking at the top of them with a type of hazy admiration, she whispers more towards herself than to Piper, "they're so tall." Piper rolls her eyes and nudges her arm before climbing up the steps.

"C'mon Blue, let's get a move on." She says it without looking back, trusting Blue to be steady enough on her feet to make it up a couple of steps with a handrail.

All it takes is a stumble. Piper's body jolts a bit as arms wrap around her waist and she can feel Nora's breath, warm and soft on her neck. She freezes completely on the spot and she hears Nora let out a small, quiet laugh, murmuring a small, quiet apology. 

"I'm just gonna stay like this a while if that's okay with you." She mumbles into her neck and Piper laughs to cover up her nerves. 

"Uh yeah." She cringes as her voice cracks, she panics for a split second before covering it up with a joke "Can't have you falling and breaking a hip can we." That earns her a huff and she laughs as she inches her way up the stairs.

Eventually Nora stops leaning on her, the reporter almost misses her warmth but can't deny just how entertaining she is as she walks down the street, although saunters may be better. All swinging arms and large steps in a coat that's a size or two too big, it's almost endearing and for a moment she can't believe that this is the same woman that used to take down Super Mutants with nothing more than a barely functioning pipe pistol and an awful lot of well placed head shots. Piper spares a glance at the large rifle strapped to her back and cracks a smile, the only thing that changed was the gun.

"Officer." Nora's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and she looks up to find her saluting the neighborhood guard. She doesn't know whether to laugh or to groan, but she does know that Nora has to be this type of drunk more often. It was more....expected as opposed to the way she would stare into glass after glass of whiskey, the way her shoulders would slump as though she was finally feeling the full weight of all her problems. ( _Because with the way her eyes are, you know she's got them.)_

Piper approaches them with a smile and tugs at the sleeve of her coat. "C'mon Blue. We gotta get inside." She looks over at the guard who seems to be trying to figure out whether to be amused or offended. She can feel her smile turn sheepish as her looks over at her. "Sorry, she uh....she doesn't get out much." Nora scoffs at that and before she can go into her lecture of how _of course_ she gets out much, somebodies got to fight for the damn Commonwealth and it sure as fuck isn't them, Piper is guiding them up the short amount of steps to the Hotel. 

It's when they get to the door to the room when Nora stumbles again, over her own two feet, arms going back around Piper's waist and the reporter jumps yet again, she doesn't dare turn back to look at her. She knows her face is as red as her coat. "Problems walking again huh?"

Nora grumbles in response, her face pressed somewhere between her jaw and her shoulder. She can feel her lips move against her pulse and suddenly she can hear her heart beating like a bass drum in her ears. It's so loud she barely catches her next words.

"What'd you say?" Nora's mouth moves from her neck to the edge of her ear and Piper has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making a noise she knows she'll regret.

"I said you smell nice." Her voice is a raspy, whiskey edged whisper and she shivers slightly against the breath on her ear, hot and sticky and making her stomachs do flips and she could hate her, she really could for making her so dumbfounded for making her heart skip beats without even being sober. But then again, being sober was never Nora's strong suit. The reporter stands there for a moment, fingers searching her pockets to keep from reaching back behind her to thread fingers through hair that she'd been dying to touch. She was supposed to be finding something. She knows she is. 

"Thanks...I uhm....I bathe."  'Good job idiot, very articulate.' She thinks to herself and she can feel Nora's arms tighten around her waist, lips still hovering just over her ear and she doesn't know whether to be mad or not but she knows she feels very, very hot, she can't think over the fog that's slowly clouding her mind with every breath Nora takes, with every rise and fall of Nora's chest against her back, all she can think about is how nice her arms feel and how the rest of her body might feel. She lets out a shaky breath as she thinks about how her mouth would feel, how her hands wou-

"Aren't you supposed to be finding the key?" Nora's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and she lets out a curse or two as her fingers clasp the key in her pocket, she brings it up to the lock and forces it inside with trembling hands. Twisting the door knob almost violently they stumble inside, falling to a heap on the floor and Piper swears that if she wasn't the same color as her coat before she most certainly is now. Her heart beating wildly in her chest as Nora lets out a groan, and she hopes to whatever god is out there that she doesn't notice when Nora pulls away. Her auburn hair disheveled as she sits up, blue-green eyes suddenly clearer, brow furrowing just enough for the scars on her face to deepen. She looks down at her for a moment and Piper wonders if it would be possible for a mirelurk to show up, or maybe a radscorpion because either of those two things are much less terrifying then the look that Nora has in her eyes like she's just realizing something that Piper has been trying to keep quiet about for the last several weeks. Like she might actually, maybe likes her too. 

But Piper shakes the thought away as they both stand up, Nora dusting off her jacket before shooting her a slightly roguish grin. It wont happen, she's just drunk, or at least that's what Piper tells herself as she watches the Vault Dweller wander off to the couch, slipping her rifle off her shoulder and shucking off her boots while she gets settled into the bed. She's fast asleep and curled up into a ball, cocooned in at least two different blankets when Nora's voice sober and silent, mutters a quiet "I love you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be out on Valentine's day but then life happened. 
> 
> If this was a formal apology for tearing out all of your hearts and stomping all over them last chapter would that be bad?  
> Thank you for reading, and remember criticism is always welcomed.


	5. Strays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper had a habit of taking in strays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a writing exercise. Short and sort of fluffy, hopefully not too terrible.

Piper had a habit of taking in strays.

It hadn't mattered to her whether they were dogs or cats. Strays of any type that wandered through out Diamond City would eventually find their way into Piper's home. She felt a certain connection with them, how they would move from street to street, seeking scraps from the rare, generous passersby. It reminded her a bit about how when she first came to Diamond City. How she would take Nat and hop from place to place. Desperately scrounging caps together to get the Publick up and running, to make sure that Nat was feed and clothed. Even if that meant wearing bullet hole ridden trench coats and going hungry more nights than not.

She had related deeply to the plight that the strays had.

Although she wouldn't keep them for very long, if they had decided to stay at all, saying that she couldn't risk Nat getting too attached as she passed a kitten off to whichever resident decided to claim them, she would always blame allergies if anyone asked why there were tears in her eyes. She couldn't very well admit to being more attached to the little bundles of fur, especially when Nat would be rather indifferent towards them at best. Piper may or may not have had a few problems with letting go in the past. She was working on it. Actually, the kitten that she had taken in for the night was making it really easy to not get choked up when she had to pass it off to someone tomorrow. She watched with a look of pure exasperation as it bolted from one end of the house to the other, leaving a wake of tipped over nuka cola bottles, spilled sugar bombs and inky black paw prints in its wake. _(She hadn't known what had made it's paws so dark but she swears if it had anything to do with the printing press she was going to do something drastic.)_

She swears the cat would stop just in the middle of it's sprinting just to turn and look at her. It would stare right into her eyes with it's pupils like slits, head tipped to the side as if asking her what she was going to do about it. She swears it almost looks like it's smirking at her.

She swears she'll wind up getting "cat murderer" added to whatever lengthy rap sheet the Diamond City Security team kept in their office. Piper sighs glancing into the depths of her terminal as the cat starts yowling. She wonders how much time she'll get for that. It couldn't be 25 to life if the victim wasn't entirely human right? The reporter glances at the small pink bowl in the corner and groans. Of course they were out of food, she leans back in her chair and glances up at the ceiling. Super Duper Mart wasn't exactly far away, and it was still early enough in the morning that she could probably make the trek to the store and back before Nat came home. She lets out a hum as she takes out her pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a drag as she looks at the small ball of fluff beside her bed. Its pupil's still slits, but it isn't yowling or running around with the force of a damn tornado so she guesses that it's finally exhausted from all it's hell raising. She narrows her eyes at the feline trying all the world to not believe that it was lifting its calico coloured chin to look up at her as an act of competition.

"I'm trusting you to look after the house while I'm gone." Piper says plainly, reaching for her press cap as she places it on her head, tugging the brim just above her eyes. "That means no lady cats, no yelling for whatever god awful reason." She stretches as she gets up, pulling on her trench coat and sliding her handgun into the holster of her pants.  "Oh, and if the Mayor comes around asking about an article, just tell him I'm out seeking the truth. Or something. You seem like you're quick enough on your feet to come up with a good response." The cat blinks at her slowly and she takes that as all the confirmation she needs before she pulls on her scarf and leaves.

* * *

 

This was bullshit.

Piper realizes that, and tries not to panic as she walks up to the gate to Diamond City, a small bag of cat food under her arm. The Mayor finally decided to do it, he'd been threatening it for weeks but she'd ignored him. She never thought the old man had it in him. Her finger jabs at the intercom button and she sets her jaw as she hears static from the other side. "C'mon, c'mon." She murmurs as her fingers press against the button again with just a bit more urgency, she hears a cough from the other end of the intercom and she could almost cry she's so happy. But instead she settles on sounding indignant as Danny explains what she already knows. The Mayor had seen the article she'd written. 

He found out she had left the city.

He locked her out. And from the sound of it, he wasn't going to be letting her back in anytime soon. 

And somehow, Piper wasn't entirely sure how, but she was positive that it was all the damn cat's fault. 

"You can't lock me out Danny, I live here." She yells into the intercom and she can hear the man on the other end speak to someone behind him and she sighs, almost missing the light cough behind her as Sullivan starts into some convoluted explanation about how it was the Mayor's orders and he can't go against it. The journalist turns for just a split second to tell whatever unlucky settler had decided wander up to find another way in when she sees her. Though, when Piper really thinks about it, she'd be hard to miss seeing as she was standing right in front of her and all. She can feel a smile tugging at her face as the wheels in her head start turning. She jerks her thumb towards the gate and the weary looking woman, with scars all along her face, raises one perfectly arched eyebrow as she asks one simple question. "You want in?" 

* * *

 

It had all started with a stray and a lie.

Piper figures as she leans against the doorway of Publick, eyes studying the marketplace as the guards do their rounds. She supposes in a small, quiet way. She should thank the cat, human to feline. After all, it was a quest for cat food that had sent her out of the city in the first place, it just so happened that when she had managed to con her way back into the city that she managed to get much more than she imagined. Sure, there had been other steps here and there, falling in love had happened slowly, and that was followed by a few months of pining over the woman she met at the gate and more than her share of crumpled up love letters as she tried in vain to put words to the hailstorm of emotions that had berated her from the inside out. ( _Crumpled up letters that, as it turned out, happened to be the perfect toy for a slowly growing kitten. Crumpled letters that said kitten had batted towards Nora, and Nora. Being Nora. Had decided they needed to be opened, and read. Aloud. Yeah, that had been fun to explain. God, did she want to give away that cat.)_ In the end though, she wound up keeping it, more out of nobody wanting the loud, fiery, feline than anything else.

She wound up keeping another stray too. Piper smiles to herself as she pushes herself off the doorway before wandering back into her home. Nora is stretched out on the sofa, eyes shut, recovering from whatever mission Desdemona sent her on and the journalist leans down, pressing a soft kiss against the taller woman's forehead before she shuffles up the stairs, booting up her terminal as the cat leaps onto her desk. 

She just hopes this one will stay. 


	6. Church

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut. You've been warned.

She doesn't know how they got here.

 

One moment, she's leaning against the wall, watching Piper type away at her terminal with a fondness that was almost foreign to her, with a warmth that she thought had been left dead and frozen in that vault. The blueprint that Tinker Tom had given her weighs heavily in the pocket of her coat. She had wanted to tell her, had needed to tell her the plan. Needed to tell her goodbye. That she'll miss her.

 

She didn't. She couldn't. And somehow they ended up here.

 

It could have been for reasons as shallow as the Vault Dweller not being able to stop watching the sway of the other woman's hips when she walks. It could have been the way their eyes would catch each other's for a moment too long. It could have been that Nat was out playing at Nina's house and they had actually been able to talk without bullets whizzing past them. It could have been the fact that Piper had told her bluntly, that they shouldn't be together (and somehow, Nora couldn't help but agree). That it would cost them both too much (although Nora was sure that she was already in debt due to the costs that came with loving people she shouldn't). That it would fail miserably because no relationship established in the middle of gunfire would ever work out(but then again, not many relationships work out in the wasteland anyways). It could have been that she had said all that while pointedly staring at Nora's lips. It could have been for the fact that Nora had only been half listening the entire time, too focused on how to put all of these feelings and emotions into words. 

 

It could have started for any number of reasons, but Nora couldn't put her finger on which particular one it was.

 

All she really knows right now is wrapped up in her arms, all fingerless gloves and press caps, leaning up against her as if she's trying to meld the two of them together. All she knows is that her fingers are lost in thick, ebony hair as slim, nimble fingers work at the buttons of her coat. She breathes in, filling her lungs with the smell of freshly printed paper and machine oil before she lifts the smaller woman up, placing her on the desk by her terminal. All she knows is the taste of her lips, full and soft as they press against her own, over and over again. They're gentle at first, getting rougher with time, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as Nora's hands slide over the journalist's jacket, pressing at the material, fumbling with it and Piper lets out a low, heated groan as she peels it off her shoulders, her tongue sliding against hers and Nora throws the jacket across the floor. Piper tastes like caffeine and nicotine, and Nora growls in a way that's almost primal when she peels the scarf off from around the reporter's neck, she glides blunt nails over the smooth, honey coloured skin, Piper's gaze locks with hers and Nora watches for a moment, transfixed as they go from gold to green to light liquor browns, watches as they go from want, to need, to desire. She could drown in those eyes, she thinks. She could lose herself in them just as easily as she could lose herself in a radiation storm. (Lord knows they have the colour for it.) Nora dips her head down and presses fast, hard kisses against her cheek, her neck, her jaw. The reporter being pressed back further and further back onto the shabby desk beneath her. Nora's somewhere between Piper's neck and the collar of her threadbare shirt when she feels the other woman's hands press lightly against her chest. She's somewhere between losing herself in bliss and trying to make sure she isn't dreaming when she hears Piper's voice somewhere just above her, feels her vocal cords tremble just beneath her lips. "B...Blue" It's a breathless sigh as Nora pulls away just enough to catch her breath. 

 

"Blue." It's a little bit louder this time, and about a half an octave higher, although that might be because she'd decided to graze her teeth along the front of her throat. The reporter's legs are wrapped tightly around her waist even if her hands are pressing against the taller woman's chest. "Blue....we...ah" Piper whimpers, trying to get her head on straight but it's so hard to do when there's pink lips fastened to her pulse point. "We....can't..."There's a low growl just below her jaw and she can feel her core tighten and her legs tremble just slightly. Fuck, was she in trouble. Her head is swimming as Nora whispers against her ear, something about rewards far out weighing the risks and how there's no way that she doesn't want it, but if she doesn't want it then she'll stop.

 

"If you need to stop, if you don't want this...tell me...Please. Just tell me." Nora's voice is terse and tight as she pulls away, taking her warmth with her. Piper whimpers, actually honest to god whimpers, Piper can feel Nora's hands, warm and steady and firm on her thighs, thumbs stroking small circles against the sides of them and Piper can feel herself drowning in each touch. She can hardly speak when Nora looks at her, eyes heavy lidded and lips bruised from their kisses. Her words swirl and spin in and out of the fog of her mind. This shouldn't be happening. She should be prying herself away and letting this woman down gently. It would be the best course of action, to brush off this entire moment because this....whatever this is...doesn't keep you safe in the wasteland. Even if Piper didn’t want to be safe.

 

There's a tension between them then, both women searching the other's face for something that they just can't put into words.

 

Piper's yanking the taller woman down in an instant, tanned fingers shaking on the collar of her shirt, struggling to undo buttons, a throaty moan bubbling out her throat and through her lips as she pulls the other woman into another heated kiss, teeth and tongues clashing, feeling the thumbs that Nora had so gently been using to rub circles in her thighs suddenly pressing down into the muscle and she gasps as Nora slides her hands up, tricky thumbs sliding through the belt loop of her pants before they're tossed to the side. She shivers as the cool night air touches her legs and Piper tightens them slightly as the vault dwellers finger slide back up her thighs, dull fingernails leaving soft red trails against her skin and when Nora breaks the kiss and she whines, hips bucking slightly as heat pools between her thighs. The journalist's stomach twitches slightly, she tries not to feel self conscious as Nora's hands move over curves and softness that she knows not many girls have. Nora's pupils are blown as she watches the woman beneath her take shallow, fleeting breaths and she pushes the fabric of her threadbare shirt up. Her fingers tease along the edge of her bra as she presses it up, fingers inching over each part of newly exposed flesh. Rough and calloused fingertips brush against her skin, plucking at the soft, rosy buds at the peak of each breast and Piper lifts her head up just enough to watch as one hand glides down the dip of her stomach, following the trail of freckled skin before they come to a stop, pausing just above the button of her pants. Nora looks at her, really looks at her and Piper gulps. The look in her eyes isn't as heated as it was before. Instead she's looking at her like she's something precious, like she's something fragile. There's no words when they kiss again. And when Nora's mouth sears a trail where her fingers once played, mouth sucking at the freckles scattered about her stomach. Piper can't help but thread her fingers through her hair. 

 

Nora is kneeling before her now, like she's some kind of wasteland deity and this shabby desk is an altar, nose nudging between her legs and when her tongue darts out and traces a wet line up along her thighs Piper's grip tightens on her hair and she lets out a hiss. Nora's eyes dart up and for a moment she wonders if this sacrilege, to have a woman who was so clearly a goddess falling apart at the seams around her. She pushes that thought out of her head as her tongue traces the edges of that one last piece of resistance. Piper lets out a cry above her, loud and keening and Nora takes that as all the incentive she needs to press that damned, damp piece of fabric out of the way. And finally, finally, she tastes her. The flavor rushes over her and she drinks from her like she's an oasis and she'd been dying of thirst. Her tongue rasps against hot, wet folds until she reaches that small bundle of nerves. She kisses her clit slowly, peering up at Piper from beneath her eyelashes and she can hear her let out a quiet, strained exhalation of "oh Blue." Her nails are digging into her scalp as she starts to suck at the bud, thighs trembling around her ears and she's saying her name like a hymn. The pitch changing as she adds a finger, the speed of her words increasing with the speed of her tongue. 

 

They hold church on the edge of her desk, against the wall, and on her bed when Piper, shaking and spent and exhausted, collapses against her.

She's asleep immediately and Nora, Nora lays there. Her mind busy, her body still buzzing from her lack of release, her fingertips, still slick, trace along the constellations of freckles on the reporter's shoulder. She tries to write I love you's into the skin, thinking that maybe if she connects freckles to each letter, it'll stay. Even when the bite marks on her neck start to fade. Even if she has to leave. She leans in one last time, takes in the smell of machine oil and press paper, trying to commit it to memory as she slowly presses her lips against the sleeping woman's temple. She shuts her eyes, trying to commit all of this to memory because she knows, even if she makes it out of the Institute, things won't be the same. She shuts her eyes to the unfairness of it all. How none of this happened the way she had wanted. How she knows that this really won't end in anything but disaster. 

 

When Nora opens her eyes, they drift from the sleeping goddess in her arms to her coat, long abandoned on the floor. She wants so badly to be selfish. To stay in this moment for as long as she can, until this world that she knows comes to yet another end.

 

But the blueprint in the pocket of her coat says otherwise.

  
When Piper wakes up in the morning, Nora will be gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the first smut-like thing I've written. Yay adult themes. Also this is the first of four/five chapters that are very much interlinked. Although you can still read them separately if you'd like.  
> On a side note I really need to stop listening to Nina Simone's music when I'm writing.  
> Special thanks to my beta for telling me what to do and how to do it.  
> Criticism is as always, very welcomed.  
> 


	7. Variables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A revision of the end. Very Nora-centric.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight deviation from canon, violence trigger warning.

_Schrodinger's Theory: a cat imagined as being enclosed in a box with a radioactive source and a poison that will be released when the source (unpredictably) emits radiation, the cat being considered (according to quantum mechanics) to be simultaneously both dead and alive until the box is opened and the cat observed._

* * *

 Nora was no stranger to making mistakes.

When she was a child she had made the mistake of running down the street, yelling curses when she broke her neighbors window. When she was a teenager she made the mistake of yelling at her father, vile, cruel things until she was red in the face. She made the mistake of thinking that it was all her fault for him leaving her mother. She made the mistake of finding comfort in some boy in the military and falling into some shallow replication of love. She made the same mistake when she had grown older, only the love had been different, it had been deeper, a tad bit stronger. Still, even that had led to a mistake.

She made the mistake of thinking she could change her son's thinking. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, sitting down and talking to him would've appealed to his more human side. She was wrong.

She had made a mistake.

Her head cracks against the pristine, white wall of the Institute's retention area, she can feel something wet and warm on the back of her head and her vision swims as she lifts her head back up. She feels like she's going to be sick and her vision blurs as she struggles to get back on her feet. _'C'mon, it's just like sparring practice with Cait.'_ She tells herself. Only there's no Curie on the sidelines to patch her up. No Preston, Deacon, or MacCready to warn her about where to expect the next hit.

There are no humans here.

She stumbles to her feet, hand clutching at the sharp, deep pain in her side, breath leaving her cracked lips in short, wheezing gasps. She broke something, she's sure of it. She coughs, and she isn't too sure if it's blood or mucus that's clogging her throat. She can feel something warm trickle down the corner of her lip and she her mouth stings as she smiles, leaning against the wall. Her eyes zero in on the Synth across from her, glasses blocking his eyes, heavy black coat hanging off his frame. His face stays stoic, even if Nora's sure she looks half mad. "I just wanted to let you know." Nora croaks as the Synth lifts his fists for another blow. "You hit like my ex."

There's a gunshot in her ears. Although, maybe she's just imagining it.

She isn't sure how many days she's been here. Drifting in and out of consciousness when she wasn't being beaten for answers. It was funny, how quickly Shaun had disowned her once things had gone south at Bunker Hill.  She had gone from being the next Director to a fugitive in only a matter of days. All it took was saying no one too many times. _'Just like a boy,'_ Nora had thought to herself as she watched a Courser bring in a chair. _'Never wanting to take no for an answer.'_ She smiles shakily at that, nerves past the point of shot, and allows herself to be shoved into the chair. This was....new.

Usually when they came in to beat the answers out of her they usually made sure she was standing. Or staggering. Whichever. She relaxes her muscles as she sits down, going over the procedure Danse and Cait had taught her. Something about tensing making everything hurt more? She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, trying to ignore the vertigo she feels when she opens them.

She can't even remember the last time she's eaten.

"Father will be coming to see you." The Courser says and Nora is sure she's hallucinating because she hasn't seen or heard from him since she was taken away to this hell. "He has questions, seeing as previous interrogations have proven unsatisfactory."

"Aw, you mean he won't be asking me what my favorite color is?" Nora asks, trying to keep her voice even through the pain in her side. Yeah, she had definitely broken something before. "Pity."

"He does not care for the knowledge of your favorite pigment fugitive." The Courser replies, voice and gestures controlled, mechanical. "There are much more pressing topics to be discussed." The Vault Dweller sighs, rubbing her face with her free hand, she winces when her fingers brush against her eye, feeling it swollen almost shut. Suddenly, she's happy she doesn't have a mirror around.

"Well, I sure hope I look presentable." The Courser looks her over blankly and turns on his heel, the cell door sliding shut behind him. Nora sighs, glancing up at the ceiling. She had been her for who knows how long and she had no plan of escape, a small, dark part of her seemed content with the idea of dying here. Surrounded by sterile white walls and glass. It was a far cry from the radiated shacks that were topside, in fact if the wasteland hadn’t  broken her over and over again, if she had been taken straight here, she'd say that it was as close to heaven as she'd ever be. She studies the floor, scuffing the bottom of a worn and holey boot across the tile, she knew better though. Heaven wasn't perfect white walls and crystal-clear glass. Sometimes heaven was jet black hair and warm, tanned skin. Sometimes heaven was a raspy "hey." Sometimes it was a loud, unfiltered laugh. Sometimes it was a quiet, gentle whine. It was ink stained fingers weaving through hair and skin against skin, her name being panted against her neck in soft, hushed tones. It was waking up in the morning and spending a moment there, wrapped in soft, freckled arms. Breathing in the scent of cigarettes and paper and hub flowers. Heaven was not wanting to leave, not for a moment. Hell had begun when she'd known she had to. That she had plans that had needed to be seen to the end. Nora had experienced heaven. Even if it was only for that moment.

She's broken out of her thoughts by the sound of the door sliding open and footsteps walking up to her. Nora looks up and studies her son. Face wrinkled and worn, it carried the best traits of both her and Nate. Shame he had to be such a cunt.  Nora smirks as she watches him cross his arms. "Is there something funny?" Nora shakes her head and chokes as laughter bubbles up in her throat.

"No. Not at all."

"I would hope not." His voice is slow, deliberate, and Nora can detect just the smallest hint of venom in his tone. "After all the casualties at Bunker Hill, it'd be hard to find any reason to be...happy." Father looks down at her and Nora wipes the look off her face as quickly as she can. "Hopefully you're learning that the Institute is not one to be trifled with."

"I don't see why you call them casualties." Nora states plainly, "the synths I mean. I feel like you should be viewing them more as a loss of..." She stops as her mind struggles to come up with the right word. "Property."

"They are casualties because robotic or not it is a loss of assets that concern me. A loss of assets that you, no doubt, caused." His jaw twitches, a trait passed unknowingly down from his father. In another life Nora would've looked at it with a fondness. Now all it does is fill her with cold, and it's like being in cryo again. If she listens hard enough she can still hear the gunshot.

Then again, that gunshot has never truly been silenced, instead it echoes. Over and over again. A reminder of just what she's lost. A reminder that it could have been her.

It should have been her.

"Now, I will only ask you this once Mother." The old man pauses, blue-green eyes, her eyes, softening for just a moment before their sharp again. "Where is the Railroad."

"I don't know." She answers, face a mask of complete indifference. "If I had to guess I'd say wherever there were trains." She smiles when Shaun's face twists in aggravation, getting no small amount of satisfaction in making him mad.

"That's just a guess though."

"Very well." The look of annoyance melts off his face too quickly and suddenly Nora is squirming in her seat, "I suppose we'll just have to threaten your assets right back, won't we? Isn't that how they do it in the Wasteland? An eye for an eye?" He nods towards the glass door and the Courser walks back in, all stiff shoulders and quick steps, his eyes finds his mother's again and he smiles.

"There are rumors that you are rather close with a reporter Mother, a reporter who has been causing a stir with our asset in Diamond City." Nora's blood runs cold, "It would be a shame if something were to happen to her. Wouldn't it?"

 "You wouldn't."

"Oh I wouldn't, the Institute however...would." Shaun's tone is smug as her face turns from cool indifference, to panic. Nora is out of her chair in an instant, hands gripping the front of his white coat before he's slammed into the wall, there's a buzzing behind her ear and she doesn't need to look behind her to know that the Courser who was beside him is now behind her, institute pistol pressed against the back of her skull. She doesn't let go of her son's coat. She doesn't bother to back away. She does however, slacken her grip.

"You wouldn't, not because you won't get your hands dirty, not because the Institute would," Her eyes study each and every crease of Shaun's face, the faint panic in his eyes and she grins. Even though her stomach clenches with the fact that this was her baby, her child, her world. Except he wasn't. Not anymore. "But because while the Institute molded you, I created you. It was me who let you breathe your first breath, I gave you life." Her grip tightens on the front of his shirt again, "And I can take it away just as quickly. If you hurt her, if you even try. I will completely, and utterly destroy you."

"And you think death frightens me?" Shaun chuckles humorlessly, "I'm dying Mother, you would be doing me a favor." His mother's grin turns into a sneer and for the first time in his life, he feels fear. His mother is not the calm, even-tempered woman he had seen fighting her way through the Commonwealth, no. With her busted lip, bruised, swollen eye, and gaunt face, she looked to be nothing more than a shell. But now, now that there was a fire in her eye, Shaun felt fear. He would be damned if he let her see it though.

"No, death wouldn't frighten you. But the lead up to it would. See, destroying just you would be simple. Expected, even." She leans in, enough for him to feel the heat of her breath on his skin. The Courser behind her tightens his finger on the trigger but Nora ignores him. "I will destroy everything you helped build, these synths, this compound. All of the people inside of it. It will be destroyed, they will be demolished, and I will kill them all. I will leave you with no legacy. All of your hard work will be gone. And I will leave you in the middle of it, to try to make pieces out of the ashes." And there's something about the way her jaw sets, about how her eyes blaze, that makes Shaun almost rethink his threat, almost.

"You wouldn't." Father echoes, he's shoved back against the wall again, but this time Nora's fingers aren't still clasped around his collar, instead, when he steadies himself, he hears a sharp pop and looks with wide eyes at the Courser he had brought with him, head nothing more than a puddle of gore, coloring the white tile crimson. When he lifts his gaze, he stares at the barrel of the pistol. His Mother stands on the other end, finger ready on the trigger, hair wild, lips pressed in a thin line, jaw clenched. She looks almost like a feral cat being lifted out of a box, all anger and wrath and hatred swirling behind her eyes.

"I would." She states coolly.

There's a gunshot in her ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my beta for all that patience and giving me amazing ideas to work with, hopefully it isn't too bad.


End file.
